


Sick Day

by headinthecloudsgirl



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of past child abuse, Sickfic, Team Feels, Tonsilitis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:10:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headinthecloudsgirl/pseuds/headinthecloudsgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deeks is sick but still comes to work until he is sent home by Hetty - with Kensi as his personal nurse... Not really a romance but friendship :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> I hate being sick and this is what happened when I felt like I swallowed razors :)  
> Enjoy!

It was his alarm clock that woke him rudely from his sleep. Deeks sighed and ran his hand over his face. When he had finally managed to get to sleep it had been late, really late, and he woke up several times during the short night. The case they closed yesterday shouldn't have been disturbing enough to affect his sleep, but, still, he just hadn't been able to relax. The moment Deeks swallowed he almost winced; his throat felt like he had tried to eat sandpaper.

"Great."

With his throat, it wasn't a good idea to go surfing, Deeks knew that much, and with another sigh he pushed the sleep function of his clock to rest a little bit longer, but sleep just wouldn't come again.

" _Great_ ," he repeated, slightly annoyed, and got up from his comfy bed.

As soon as Deeks' feet touched the cool floor and he was standing upright he used the wall to stay that way. Taking a deep breath and willing the dizziness to go away, he slowly made his way to the kitchen. He would not stay home just because of a sore throat – nope, not going to happen.

 

Kensi was sitting together with Sam and Callen in the bullpen and was desperately trying to minimize the incredibly huge amount of paper on her desk. She had lost count of how many justifications for the use of her SIG she had already signed – wasn't it argument enough that someone wanted to detonate a bomb? Seemingly not. Every bullet had to be discussed and approved.

Sam and Callen exchanged some amused glances while watching Kensi struggling with the formulas, getting more annoyed with every page that was turned.

"You know, if you just did the paperwork immediately you wouldn't have to spend a whole day at the end of the week doing it," Sam chuckled and got an amazed glance from Kensi.

"Oh really Sam? Thank you so much for sharing with me!" Kensi said and scribbled a last signature on yet another piece of paper. "You know what? I'm wondering how Deeks manages his paperwork. I mean, he has to do double the amount for LAPD, and still his desk is always free of paper. I bet he pays Eric or something."

With those words she closed the brown folder in front of her. If someone had asked her, she had done enough for today. Time for her donut.

"By the way, where is Deeks?" Callen asked and looked at his watch.

The detective was running late most of the days because he needed to catch that last wave which was certainly the best of the day. Deeks chose that exact moment to appear around the corner.

"Deeks is here. Am I already being missed? Aw, you guys are too sweet," he greeted his colleagues and placed a smile on his face.

"Get in line, Shaggy," Sam regarded the Detective from nose to toe – something was bothering him, something was missing in that picture. "No sandy shoes? Haven't you been surfing?"

Deeks sighed internally. This was one of the moments when he hated to work with people who were able to see the smallest details.

"Nope. Forecast said the waves wouldn't be that great," he replied and sank as cool as possible onto his chair.

Callen looked at him suspiciously and entered the question-answer-game. "Then why are you late?"

"Oh, let me guess, you hit on some crazy stripper yesterday and she just wouldn't leave this morning?" Kensi teased and wiggled with her eyebrows in a not-so-subtle way.

"Yeah, something like that."

Without another word, Deeks put his laptop on his desk and started hitting the keys, typing the report for last night that Kensi had yet to finish.

He would have been on time; if his body would have done what Deeks had wanted it to do. Every time he got up, he needed a moment to get his vision clear again and until the world stopped spinning. That and he had to wait for his tea. He, Marty Deeks, actually drank tea and that meant something.

 

Kensi looked up from her papers and glanced at Deeks. Something was wrong with him, she could tell that – hell, she could feel it. His answers were too short and not very Deeks-like, even her comment with the stripper was completely ignored by him. Kensi frowned at him, seeing how he cuddled himself even tighter in his pullover, with growing concern.

Despite the air-conditioning it was well over twenty-five degrees in the mission so that there was absolutely no reason to be freezing. With her coffee in one hand, she walked over to Deeks and leaned with her hips on his desk.

"You okay, Deeks?"

"Sure, Fern, I'm just peachy." He gave her a brief smile, before turning his attention once again to his laptop. He was fine, he was _not_ sick and even if he was, he would definitely not admit it to his colleagues.

Kensi just nodded and went to the coffee machine, which was practically just behind Deeks' desk, pouring herself a new cup of coffee while taking a powdered donut – her favorite flavor. Just as she was going to take a bite, the shrill of Eric's whistling caught everyone's attention in the bullpen. All of their heads turned to the stairs, where the analyst stood at the very top, tablet in his hand.

"Hetty wants you all up in ops, debriefing the last case."

With those words he was already gone and left the agents standing stunned in the room.

"No crazy whistle? What is it today?" Callen joked before jogging up the two landings of stairs with Sam next to him.

Kensi put her coffee along with the donut on her desk and sighed heavily. She had been looking forward to eating it.

"You coming?" She turned to Deeks and grabbed his upper arms as soon as she saw the color of his face.

"Whoa, what's going on?"

 

Well, there goes his plan of not showing the rest of the team that maybe he isn't feeling _that_ well. As soon as he stood up from his chair, everything went black, and if it weren't for Kensi's arms, he wouldn't be standing anymore.

Deeks took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. That should help with nausea and dizziness, right? He registered that Kensi was asking him something, but, with the best will in the world, he couldn't tell what it was – he was focusing on not passing out.

Without further thinking about Kensi's question, or if his answer would fit to it, he mumbled, "I need to sit down."

"No, not sit down, lie down," Kensi replied and navigated him to couch, fastening her grip on Deeks' biceps.

He was as white as a ghost and seemed to be fighting against a dizzy spell, at least that was what Kensi was guessing. So she had been right that Deeks wasn't okay.

"Kensi? Deeks? You coming?" she heard Callen's voice from above her and tried to calm her voice before she answered him.

"Callen, something isn't right with Deeks! Can you come down?"

In the background, Callen exchanged some words with Hetty, before Kensi noticed his steps coming closer to her.

"Okay, Deeks, we're going to get you on the couch now, alright?" Kensi whispered in her partner's ear and eased him on the brown sofa.

His breathing was still very controlled, but heavy, and he had his eyes firmly closed. Callen, who was standing behind Kensi, looked at the scene playing in front of him for a moment, before he laid Deeks flat on the couch and motioned Kensi to lift up his legs.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. He got up from his chair and nearly blacked out," Kensi said while holding Deeks' ankles in her hand and trying to get blood into his head.

Callen frowned at her words and put his hand onto Deeks' temple.

"He has a fever und I guess it's quite high."

By this time he was more concerned about the detective and tapped lightly on his cheeks.

"Deeks? Can you hear me?"

Several seconds later the ocean blue eyes tried to focus on his superior's ones, but remained a bit dazed.

"I'm fine," Deeks offered and blinked a few times.

"No, Mr. Deeks, you are most definitely not fine. When your blood circulation regains its proper form, Miss Blye will drive you to the doctor and then straight home," intervened Hetty, who, as always, stepped beside her agents without making a sound.

"Hetty, it isn't necessary, really."

"Yes, I think it is. You have dizzy spells, fever as well as a sore throat and severe headaches. You need to recuperate and that you can do best in your own four walls. I do not want to see you here before Wednesday."

With those words, Hetty was already gone and left three stunned agents.

"How does she do that? I didn't even _mention_ my throat or the headaches," Deeks mumbled.

"Yeah, and why not, hmm?" Kensi demanded in a not so gentle voice.

"Are you worried about me? Admit it, you are worried about me." Deeks grinned and didn't flinch when the expected punch to his lower leg Kensi was still elevating came.

"Of course I'm worried about you when you show up at work, sick, and pretend like nothing is wrong, idiot!" Kensi snapped before she shut her mouth.

It wasn't her style to worry about someone – not at all.

"Sorry."

Callen watched the little conversation between the two of them with an amused smile, before clearing his throat.

"Do you think we can get you home? Or do you need another minute?"

"It's fine." Deeks freed his legs from Kensi's grip and sat up.

Not a good idea. The former dull headaches he had had for several days now increased like they wanted his head to explode. Deeks winced in pain, pressed his hands to his temples, and took a deep breath.

"You sure?" Callen broached the subject again and pulled Deeks, after a slight nod, together with Kensi in a standing position, although the Detective was swaying a concerning amount.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Deeks repeated the sentence like a mantra in his head while he was led by Kensi and Callen to the silver SRX. When he was pushed onto the passenger seat, he heard Callen say to Kensi, "Take care of him."

 

Kensi was driving to Deeks' family doctor, whose address Hetty had given her, when she noticed that Deeks had never taken a sick day since she knew him, she had never actually seen him sick. He complained about just everything, like a hangnail, but he never took a day off, except for the time he spent in the hospital due to being shot two times in the chest. That time he didn't complain, he even pulled all of his stitches when he shot Chechen terrorists who had come to abduct Kensi.

Her partner was most of the time as open as a book to her but there were still a few things she could not understand. Or rather would not understand, like the stunt he pulled with the yoga-bunnies. After one last turn, Kensi got to the parking lot of Deeks' doctor, not far from his apartment and convinced him to exit the car.

One hand tight around his bicep, the other one on the reception desk, Kensi looked around for the doctor's receptionist, who she would send to hell if somebody wouldn't take a look at Deeks now – like _right_ now. A speech already in her head, she was cut short by a young red-haired woman, before she could even open her mouth.

"Miss Blye along with Mr. Deeks, I assume?" After a stunned nod from Kensi she added, "This way, please Miss Blye, the doctor will be with you shortly."

Two seconds later the door to the treatment room was closed again and left Kensi alone with Deeks, who appeared more focused.

"What was that?" Kensi asked more to herself than to him, but got an answer nevertheless.

"That, Fern, was Hetty. At least I suppose it was."

He got a smile from Kensi, before she guided him over to the couch on the far end of the room. Deeks sat down and started rubbing his temples once again.

"Hetty was right with the headaches, wasn't she?"

Before Deeks had the chance to answer, the door swung open and a doctor in his late thirties, but still highly ambitious, entered the room with blowing coat and started examining his patient without further ado.

 

Ten minutes later, Kensi was back in her car, a shivering Deeks next to her on the passenger seat. According to his doctor, he caught a severe tonsillitis that shouldn't be messed with. The next few days he had to take it easy and drink a lot but first and foremost he needed to rest. As soon as they had been out of the building the doctor had his office in, Kensi had called Hetty and got the permission, or you could say order, to look after Deeks and make sure he didn't do anything stupid the doctor wouldn't approve of. At least as long there were no cases.

Kensi wanted to guarantee that Deeks took all of his medicine- Erythromycin for the inflammation, Tylenol for the fever and headaches, as well as Tyrothricin for his sore throat.

With all best will, Kensi could not imagine that Deeks was capable of knowing which of the drugs was which in his momentary condition. As Kensi stopped her car in front of his apartment building, she looked at the stairs and then at her sleeping partner. How the heck can she get him up there?

"Deeks? Come on, we're home." Kensi shock his arm before she got out of the SRX, encircled it and opened the passenger door.

"Deeks."

His hair was plastered to his forehead by sweat and the normally deep blue eyes seemed to have lost a bit of their sparkle.

"Kensi? I think I'm sick," he said with a raspy voice and grimaced.

Speaking wasn't such a great idea, it hurt like hell.

"Yep, that I would agree with you immediately. Come on, we'll go upstairs, okay? Then you can lie down and get well again."

"You want to play doctor games? Nurse me back to health?" Deeks grinned but pulled himself together.

He was not stupid enough to annoy Kensi too much, not now, when it seemed like she would stay with him for a while.

"If you weren't sick, you would regret that sentence, Deeks," Kensi said and added right away, "And no, that is no free ticket for any sexist comments."

"Could have worked."

With a theatrical sight he hauled himself out of the car and grabbed the door, until his vision was free of dark spots again.

"Ready?" Kensi asked and dragged him up the stairs to his flat, stopping several times to prevent Deeks from passing out.

 

Deeks allowed Kensi without a comment to open his door with the spare key they exchanged a long time ago, in case one of them needed help. Granted, Kensi could open any door in thirty seconds when she needed to and Deeks wasn't too bad himself in picking locks, but with a key it was a lot easier and – more importantly – a lot less suspicious. The moment that Deeks stepped over the threshold, he slipped out of his shoes and shuffled through the open living room into his bedroom, where he fell onto his bed.

What a nice feeling, just to lie down. Deeks pulled the blanket as well as he could around his shivering body without having to move too much and just wanted to go to sleep and wake up in top form.

"Deeks, don't fall asleep yet."

Kensi stepped next to his bed, a glass of water in one hand, meds in the other one and grinned at the sight in front of her. Deeks looked like a small boy the way he lay in fetal position on his side, his hair a complete mess.

"We need to get you out of your clothes, they're drenched with sweat. And you need to take your pills."

She already had him detangled from the blanket and now pulled his pullover over his head, before slipping on a shirt.

"I can get dressed myself, you know," Deeks mumbled and rubbed his arms.

He should sleep in a shirt? Way too cold.

"And it is too cold," he complained while taking off his jeans and then dressing in sweatpants Kensi offered him with closed eyes.

Even if Deeks was sick and she wanted to take care of him (did she really just think that?!), she didn't want to have him just in boxer shorts in front of her.

"You've got a fever of almost forty degrees, Deeks. When you wear too much it isn't healthy," Kensi replied and gave him the pills.

"One is the antibiotic, the other one Tylenol."

Deeks swallowed them reluctantly with a sip of water before taking the lozenge.

"For your throat."

"Thanks, Kens."

He couldn't remember that someone had ever taken care of him when he had been sick; his father had been drunk most of the time and his mother too focused on not getting beaten again.

"No problem, okay? If you need anything, I'm in the living room."

"You're staying?"

Kensi thought for a moment how to answer to that before she decided on the least personal way.

"Hetty's orders."

 

When Deeks opened his eyes again, he knew that he couldn't have slept that much and a glance on his alarm clock confirmed his speculation – he was home for just over an hour. Then why was he awake already? Two seconds later he got his answer to that when his stomach turned upside down.

Oh, that was not good. The antibiotic – erythromycin – didn't agree with him. How could he have forgotten? The last time he had been sick with the flu, the antibiotic made it worse instead of better. Deeks tried to take some calming breaths and to fight the nausea, but it didn't help. In a single bound he was out of his bed and darted more or less to his bathroom, which was unfortunately on the other side of his apartment.

He fell just in time in front of his toilet onto his knees and brought up the bit of food he had eaten today.

 

Kensi was just making herself another coffee as she heard steps in the apartment, fast steps. She walked back into the living room with concern written all over her face and then turned to the door of the bathroom, which was slightly ajar.

"Deeks, are you alright?"

Her question was answered by retching, coming one-hundred-percent from her partner. Without further thinking of privacy, she stepped through the door and kneeled next to Deeks, who was sitting drenched in sweat and white as a wall on the tiles. With one hand she pushed his hair from his forehand and grabbed with the other one a washcloth nearby, made it wet and then gave it to Deeks who took it thankfully to wipe over his mouth.

"It's the antibiotic," he managed to get out, before leaning over the toilet once again.

Kensi was sitting next to him, rubbing soothing circles on his back and tried to make the situation a bit less uncomfortable for him. There was nothing left in his stomach to throw up, but he just wouldn't stop dry heaving.

"Deeks, listen to me: inhale through the nose, exhale through your mouth. Nice and slowly, everything is alright." She was still rubbing his back and noticed how the muscles started to relax a bit.

"Better now?"

Deeks nodded weakly and leaned his head on the cool tiles of the wall behind him.

"I hate it," he whispered and closed his eyes for a moment until he heard the flushing of the toilet and then felt Kensi's hands on his arms for the umpteenth time this day.

"You're going to lie down on the couch, alright? It's nearer to the bathroom," she said and pulled him up.

When he was securely tucked in a blanket on the couch, a bucket next to him, Kensi sat down on an armchair not too far away from him. It was going to be some interesting days.

 

Kensi had, shortly after Deeks fell asleep, called his doctor and had him informed about the side effects of the antibiotic. The doctor had prescribed a different one, because Deeks really needed them and could not just stop taking them. The question was how to get the meds to his apartment because Kensi didn't want to leave Deeks alone – not after his trip to the bathroom. As quietly as possible she stood up from the most comfy armchair she had ever sat in and went to the kitchen to call Callen.

"Hey, Callen."

"How's Deeks?" he asked without any greeting.

Kensi sighed. "Not so well. It just seems to be one hell of tonsillitis, but his stomach didn't agree with the antibiotic so he spent some time in the bathroom."

"That's not nice… Can we do anything?"

"Actually, yes. Would you and Sam pick up the new pills and bring them to Deeks' place after work? I bet Hetty already has the prescription on her desk." Kensi said and already knew that Callen wouldn't say no.

No matter how the relationship between Deeks and him seemed to outsiders, Kensi knew Callen cared for him.

"Yeah, no problem. We don't have another case yet so I think we'll be there around five, if that's okay with you?"

"Thanks Callen, really."

Her mind a bit more at ease, Kensi walked back into the living room in order to watch over Deeks again, but found him to her surprise awake.

"Hey. Are you alright?"

"My head and throat are killing me but I don't feel as nauseous as before," confirmed Deeks and wrapped the blanket tighter around him.

"Then you should eat, or at least drink something. The doctor told me to keep you hydrated and everything you had in you went bye-bye," Kensi stated with a firm voice that left no room for protests.

She turned back to the kitchen to warm up some powdered soup she had found in Deeks' cupboard – with a sore stomach she didn't want him having to eat something she cooked.

"You aren't going to cook, are you?" Kensi could swear that there was fear in his voice.

"No, don't panic, I found some powdered soup." She grinned, put the soup onto the stove and went back to the living room, shaking a can of room-temperate coke with one hand.

"Warm, stale coke?" Deeks asked with a frown and took a timid sip from the glass Kensi had given him.

"It's better for your stomach. Trust me, you do not want to drink anything too cold or with too much carbon dioxide," Kensi replied and watched him taking small sips. "Why don't you know the tricks, Deeks? Are you sick that rarely or…" Kensi bit her tongue just in time for the words not to come out.

_-or didn't someone ever take care of you?_

She would have meant it in a playful way, but seeing Deeks' facial expression she stopped.

"It’s okay, Kens. I just didn't have the best of all childhoods." He tried to ease the situation and was saved by the ringing of the clock Kensi had set for the soup.

"I'll be right back."

Like she promised, Kensi was back two minutes later, two bowls of soup in her hands, and sat down next to Deeks.

Noticing his chuckling, she said, "What? I didn't eat either."

Deeks grinned and started to eat the soup as slowly as possible. When he had finished about half of it, he put it with a jerk on the desk and closed his eyes.

"Bathroom?" Kensi asked, one hand for safety near the bucket.

Deeks achieved a nod and staggered with Kensi next to him into his bathroom, where he sunk onto the ground, one hand on the toilet seat. Kensi could understand all too well what was happening inside her partner's head. When no one had taken care of him when he had been sick as a child, then this situation would be ten times worse for him than it would be for her, who had always had someone close by if she hadn't felt well. Deeks didn't know the feeling of family and she felt terribly sorry for him.

"Deeks, listen to me, okay? You do not have to be embarrassed. It is not your fault that you are sick. Even if you're not used to it, I am here and I'll stay here until you are well again, you got me?"

"I know that you at least wouldn't beat the crap out of me, if I didn't make it to the bathroom," groaned Deeks and broke Kensi's heart with that sentence.

What did he have to endure as a child?

"Never, Marty," Kensi whispered and rubbed, like last time, circles on his back, as Deeks threw up the soup.

 

Deeks spent the rest of the day on the couch, Kensi either next to him or in the armchair. By now he was able to keep the coke down as well as the rest of the soup he had eaten. When his doorbell rang a few minutes past five o'clock, he jerked awake from his slumber and watched as Kensi opened the door to let Callen and Sam in and guided them to the living room.

"Hey, Deeks. How are you?" Callen asked and then waved with a bag he had in his hand. "We've got your new antibiotics."

"Great… I just hope they stay where they belong," Deeks mumbled and got a laugh from Sam.

"You can't complain with Kensi as your personal nurse, can you?"

Deeks smiled at Kensi and said, "No, I can't."

That was the moment he made – he, Marty Deeks, got Kensi Marie Blye blushing.

"Don't pride yourself with it, Deeks," she grunted although both of them knew that she didn't mean it negatively.

The two of them got a lot closer today that they had been before.

"I wouldn't dare to," grinned Deeks and moved a bit so that Callen and Sam could sit as well.

They stayed for the rest of the evening and tried their best to get his mind distracted of the fact that he was still sick. Just before Deeks eyes slid close, still propped between Sam and Callen on the couch one thought crept into his head: That had to be what family was like.

 


End file.
